


Used to be alright

by melissa_42



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissa_42/pseuds/melissa_42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignorance is bliss, as they say, and Tsuna has become intimately aware how of very true this is in the context of his own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Used to be alright

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for implied child abuse.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say, and Tsuna has become intimately aware how of very true this is in the context of his own life. He now takes back any complaints he might have had about his failure-filled childhood because despite being doomed to a future of daily grind drudgery, at least life was spectacularly comfortable before the mafia sucked him in. But time has taken him in her current, and he has been left like driftwood on the banks, twenty-seven with this innocence stripped away forever.

There are times when he desperately wishes to have his mind wiped clean of all he has seen, to hang his cloak on someone else and start his life anew, away from the violence; to simply exist, safe and quiet. Ignorance is bliss.

Tonight is one of those nights. He awakens with a gasp of breath, limbs still sluggish from sleep, mind racing. It takes him two seconds to identify his bedroom and another second to identify the hand stroking gently through his hair.

“Bad dream?” Chrome asks, her voice as soft as the whisper of the sheets against their skin.

“Yeah,” he answers, scrubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“About the children?”

He can still see them, clear as yesterday afternoon. Their dead eyes stare at him from too young faces. In the background, he can hear Gokudera, or maybe it is Yamamoto, telling him that the situation is under control, even when those eyes speak a silent contradiction. Whoever is there with him lays a heavy hand on his shoulder (the fingernails are yellow—it must be Gokudera) and guides him out of the musty house. It is at that moment, standing in the front drive with dust clinging to the legs of his dark trousers, when it dawns on him that no matter how many futures he changes, no matter how many people he helps, he can never change the past—not his own, not his friends’, not those children’s—and this realization must hit him hard enough to show because Gokudera asks him what is wrong.

“We’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” Gokudera says, and Tsuna is not sure if his friend is talking about the children or their scumbag of a father. Either way, he has not felt this helpless since he first realized that he could not escape being boss of the Vongola. It hurts him that he cannot save everyone, that maybe he is contributing to the problem. He is a criminal, after all.

He does not tell Chrome the details of the dream and is grateful that she does not pry. Chrome never pries, and that is one of the qualities he loves about her.

Perhaps she does not ask questions because she has that innate way of knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Pain is part of life,” she says as she continues untangling the knots from Tsuna’s hair, playing with the wisps at his temples. “Mukuro-sama says that Earth is a level of Hell. You can’t escape it, but it’s only temporary.”

“Well, that’s comforting.”

A soft whuffle of breath gusts against his hair, Chrome’s laughter. 

“Still, the kids…” Tsuna trails off. He wants to tell her they don’t deserve this, that no one deserves this, but Chrome already knows, so it seems pointless to say it out loud. “I feel like I’m personally responsible, like I should have noticed something earlier. Stupid, isn’t it?”

Chrome shakes her head and curls in tighter against him. “No. You have a big heart.”

“Chrome…”

“It’s true,” she interrupts. “Now, go back to sleep.”

He can tell she is using her flame on him because he drifts off again preternaturally quickly, and the dreams he has are hazy and pleasant, full of children’s smiles, innocent hearts, and peace, with a soft hint of nostalgia.

Ignorance is bliss.


End file.
